The Christmas Miracle
by GDAE24
Summary: Sherlock has a something very important to tell John, a surprise he decides to give on Christmas. Before he can, John is called back into work and informed he must stay late, but Sherlock needs to tell him before Christmas is over, or else his plan is ruined. Omegaverse, mpreg, fluff.


**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing, everything belongs to BBC, Mark Gatiss, and Steven Moffat.**

Sherlock nervously jittered around the kitchen, setting the table and laying out the food he'd made that he might or might not have had Mrs. Hudson help with. Setting the turkey in the middle between two silver candle holders, the omega stood back to admire his work. Moving away, he quickly turned the lights off, letting the flames dance on their wicks, shadows moving gracefully against the walls. Resting his hand unconsciously on his stomach, Sherlock smiled at the serene setting before him.

Jumping slightly, he turned when he heard the door open downstairs and footsteps that were obviously John's made their way up the stairs. Turning on the lights once again, he met his husband at the door, opening it before John had even put his hand on the handle.

"I have news!' he rumbled excitedly.

The alpha laughed, leaning up to peck Sherlock on the lips before moving inside to set his groceries down. Sherlock grabbed his hand and dragged him forcefully to the kitchen, switching off the lights so that the two were washed in candlelight. John gasped, allowing Sherlock to push him down into his chair and move to the other side of the table, serving John then himself before sitting down.

"Did you make all this?" John asked in a disbelieving voice as he wafted the smells into his nose.

"Yes, and don't expect it to happen ever again. I might be an omega, but I'm not a house wife. Just thought it'd be nice, being Christmas and all." he muttered, filling John's glass with wine, leaving his own glass empty.

John laughed, "Yes, I know, I know. I just can't get over the fact that you actually cooked!"

Sherlock pouted, "Mrs. Hudson helped some, but I did do most of it. I am capable of making food, you know."

"I never said you weren't, you just never have. Always said it was too… what? Confirmative, was it?"

Sighing, the omega set down his fork, "It is, it's always been degrading when alphas thought their best pick up line for you was, 'Hey pretty thing, want to come over and make some dinner for us? I know how you love to cook.'"

Swallowing the rest of his laughter, John wiped away a stray tear, "I'm sorry about that, some of us don't exactly know how not to be completely offensive."

"Well, I eventually found one that did not force me to comply with social norms and loves me for who I am."

"Cheers." John said, raising his glass and taking a sip, not seeing Sherlock not return it. "Now, what was your news?"

O_o

_Three Weeks Earlier_

Sherlock woke instantly and practically ran to the bathroom, throwing up the contents of last night's dinner into the toilet. He heard John get up, following closely behind, soon feeling a soothing hand rubbing his back. Flushing the toilet, a sheen of sweat covering his porcelain skin, Sherlock leant back against the larger man, burying his head into John's neck. Slowly, he breathed in the soothing scent of the alpha's pheromones, calming almost instantly.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock, resting his nose and lips on top of the younger man's head, the soft curls tickling his face slightly.

"You should go to the doctor." John mumble into Sherlock's hair. Eyes opening slightly, Sherlock groaned.

"You are a doctor." he retorted before his stomach churned again and he found himself leaning back over the toilet. "It'll pass soon." he argued when he'd finished, leaning back against John.

"Sherlock, love, this has been going on for almost a week."

"'M fine." he assured.

"If you're still sick next week, we're going to the doctor's office, and not mine." John decided. "Now, come on, up you get. Since we're up, I might as well make breakfast, I have time now before I need to get to the clinic."

Sherlock allowed himself to be pulled up, his eyes beginning to droop as his exhaustion caught up with him. Dragging his feet against the tile, he began to follow John lethargically before the man turned and gave him an exasperated look.

"How late were you up last night?"

"Only until three."

"Sherlock," the alpha groaned, "what have I told you about staying up that late? Especially after a case where we both know you haven't slept in days."

"Needed to finish my experiment, had-had to see the particular post mortem effect of a bullet wound in the brain dep-depending on area and how long after death." the taller man yawned.

"Into bed with you." John demanded. "I'll make you some eggs to eat when you get up, and you better eat them Mr. I-Don't-Eat-On-Cases-Because-Digestion-Slows-Me-Down."

Sherlock almost threw up again, shaking his head sharply, "No eggs."

Looking at him, John's face turned to slight worry, "You sure you're okay, love? Usually you scarf down eggs by the dozen. It's the reason I go to the store practically every day. Well, that and milk."

"No eggs." Sherlock groaned, turning back to their room, and added as an afterthought, "And no milk."

"Sherlock..?"

"It's fine, John." he sighed as he got back under the covers. "Not like it's abnormal for people to change their minds."

"Yes, I know, you're right. Just odd is all. Probably because you've been throwing up all week and you had been eating eggs and drinking milk before that. You getting sick must have turned you off of that stuff."

"Exactly, John. See? The only explanation."

John laughed, "Well, not the only one, as you should know. Other factors could cause stuff like that, like seeing Anderson eating it, or Sally. Or, you know, pregnancy."

Sherlock's eyes snapped open, turning to look at John, but the man had already walked out of the room. Turning over, he forced himself to push the newest thought away, ideas pushing through and infecting his mind. Despite his looming thoughts, though, sleep quickly caught up to him, pulling him under until he reawaked at two in the afternoon.

Sitting up slowly, Sherlock stared blankly into the wall for almost an hour, one thought continuing to race through his active mind. Shaking himself from his reverie, he had to be sure before he let his mind get ahead of itself.

Getting out of bed, Sherlock pulled on his suit, going out towards the kitchen to see toast and broth set out, a small note saying _"Love you, feel better."_ sitting for him at the table. Deciding to eat when he got back, Sherlock continued, pulling on his belstaff coat and blue scarf before going outside and sweeping through the streets.

He found it extremely uncomfortable to be in the convenience store in the first place, but the woman behind the counter who giggled when she rung him up made his face burn. Despite her apologies, he almost ran out, feeling everyone's eyes on him and the little package he'd bought. He couldn't help but curse them all in his head, wondering what was so odd about what he bought. They all should have been able to tell about his bond due to his scent and very visible scar – stupid John and purposely putting it so high that Sherlock couldn't cover it up with his coat alone.

Sneaking back into the flat, Sherlock ran up the stairs, feeling relief fill him when Mrs. Hudson didn't call his name. Making his way to the bathroom, he pulled out the contents of the bag, following the instructions. When he finished, he placed the object on the counter, deciding to heat up his lunch, a.e. what was intended to be breakfast.

Slowly, almost cautiously, Sherlock moved back into the bathroom when the appropriate amount of time had passed. Picking up the small stick, he wasn't sure what he wanted it to say, what he was hoping for, but when he read it, tears filled his eyes, dripping down his cheeks as a large smile overcame his face, laughter bubbling up his throat.

Positive.

O_o

_Present Day_

"John," Sherlock said, getting up and moving to sit on the alpha's lap, slouching so he could nuzzle the larger man's chin, "I'm-"

Suddenly John's phone went off, making them both jump, Sherlock looking at it with pure hatred in his eyes, John with exasperation.

"Don't!" Sherlock snapped as the other man reached for his mobile.

"Sherlock-"

"But it's Christmas, John, you have tonight off. I made you dinner and everything!" he began, getting upset.

"Oh, love," he sighed, grasping Sherlock's chin and kissing his lips, "I know, I know how hard you've worked and that you were looking forward to tonight. Let me just talk to them, convince Sarah she doesn't need me and then we can finish, yeah?"

Sherlock watched apprehensively as John answered his phone, not having to hear the voice on the other end to know that his husband would be leaving. It was one of John's many flaws and gifts, he could never say no to someone if they needed him. The older man hung up with a sigh and a guilty look on his face.

"I know." Sherlock grumbled, getting off of him and moving the clean up their practically uneaten dinner.

"Sherlock, please, I really am sorry."

The omega sighed, setting down the plate, "John, it's not you I'm upset with. I understand that you are the only competent doctor in that damned place and I was foolish to think they would be able to last for one night without you."

"Look, I'll make sure they give me the rest of the week off for this, and I will give you my phone and everything, okay? Deal?"

"Alright, but your last Christmas present…"

"Just give it to me when I get back."

"John, you won't be back until past midnight, especially if you're going to take the next week or so off."

He sighed, "Okay, give it to me now, I'll hurry up and open it before I go."

Shaking his head, Sherlock ushered him out. He didn't want to tell John he was pregnant in a rushed state where they couldn't celebrate and be together afterwards. He wanted to tell him on Christmas, having known for a few weeks and practically bursting every time his husband was near. It had all been planned out, but he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Sarah would ruin it. The other omega hated his guts with a burning fury.

"You're sure?" John asked one last time before he was pushed out the door by two lanky arms.

Making his way back up the stairs, Sherlock went and laid on the couch, not even having the energy to steeple his fingers beneath his chin. Slowly, he counted the hours, feeling and hearing the world move around him as Christmas began to end.

At eleven O'clock, Sherlock sat up, deciding that Sarah would not ruin this for him, for them. He was going to tell John tonight, on Christmas, whether she liked it or not. Glancing at the clock, he decided he'd given John enough time to have finished with his patient and get a good chunk of paperwork finished. If he headed out now, he should be able to get there right before mid-night and John would be free to go straight home afterwards.

Running out in a flurry, Sherlock instantly got a cab, thanking any god out there for giving him such a useful cab catching gift. When the car finally came to a stop, he literally threw the money at the cabbie, dashing into the practically empty office. Going up to John's secretary, Sherlock cleared his throat, forcing on a cold smile when she looked up.

"Mr. Holmes-"

"Watson-Holmes." he corrected immediately.

"Yes, Mr. Watson-Holmes, what-why are you here?"

Sherlock sighed in annoyance, "Well, after you all decided to take away my husband on this miraculous holiday, I came to see him. Now, if you could do me a _huge_ favor," he drawled, "I need to make an appointment with him."

"He's refusing any more patients for tonight, said he was going to finish all his paperwork early and we weren't to call him for two weeks."

Sherlock smiled internally. Two weeks!

Outside, he gave her a cold glare, "Yes, but I'm his husband, he'll see me, obviously. Why do you think he's refusing any more patients? Oh, but you can't tell him it's me."

"But-"

"Will you please just be competent for once in your miserable, useless life and make a maternity appointment with Doctor Watson for me right now?!" he yelled.

"He's not even our maternity-"

"Would you please?!" Sherlock snapped.

"I-erm," she stuttered, picking up the phone, glancing up at the omega once before he heard John answer. "Uh, y-yes Doctor Watson, sorry to bother you, but there is someone here asking for you to do a maternity check-up for them." He heard John say something, and the woman looked at Sherlock, deciding not to argue with him at the look he threw her. After a few minutes of back and forth, she hung up with a sigh, glaring back up at Sherlock, "I hope you're happy. You can go see him now."

"Took you long enough." he muttered, earning himself another glare, which he ignored, choosing to walk towards John's office instead.

Opening the door, he saw John standing with his back towards him, placing something in his drawer. Looking over at his desk, Sherlock saw nothing on it, meaning he was done, they could go home after this.

"Okay," John began, turning around, slapping on a plastic glove, "Have a-Sherlock?" he faltered. "What are you doing here? I have a patient coming any minute for a maternity check-up."

"I know." Sherlock said, sitting himself on the plastic.

"Well then, why don't you go wait outside, I'll finish with them in a few minutes and then we can go."

"John," Sherlock began, "I am your next patient."

"No, my next patient is preg…" he trailed off, looking the omega over slowly.

"Nant." Sherlock finished, biting his lip.

"You-you-you're…?"

Sherlock nodded, "I-I mean I've known for a few weeks, but I thought, well, I-I wanted to tell you on Christmas, as a-a present, you know? You-you've always wanted kids, right? I tried to tell you earlier, but-"

John cut him off, crushing their lips together in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around the omega's thin waist.

"So you're happy?" Sherlock asked when they broke apart.

John kissed him again, "Of course I'm happy, you idiot! I can't believe it! I mean, we're having a baby!"

"Yeah," Sherlock laughed quietly, blinking back tears, "we are."

The couple kissed again, spending the next few moments wrapped up in their own little world before breaking apart. Sherlock rested his forehead against John's, the smile he was wearing began to hurt but refused to go away.

"Can we go now?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, God yes." John breathed, pulling Sherlock off and ushering through the door.

As the couple walked out the door hand in hand, Sherlock turned one last time, instantly schooling his features.

"Don't you dare even _think_ about calling him!" he yelled, pointing his finger at the receptionist.

She opened her mouth to argue, but John had already pulled Sherlock out, standing on the curb to wait for a cab.

"A baby." John whispered, wrapping his arms around his omega and pulling him close.

"A baby." Sherlock whispered against his alpha's lips.

_**The End**_


End file.
